We Meet Again
by I Hate Allergies
Summary: SherWood! Post RF. John has got into the detecting business and someone calls him to Cardiff. It's a spoofish, Fluffish story but I like it. and It's not slash. Even though I'm sure Jack would want it to be ;


**I'm an American so Britishisms don't come naturally to me. I had to go back a fix quite a few things; the fact that he was indeed on holiday and not vacation being just one. But I think I did well. And sorry, I learned how the Welsh speak from Jimmy Carr so if you find it a bit offensive… Curse you, Jimmy Carr!**

**~IHA**

Doctor John Watson was in Cardiff against his better judgement. It wasn't usually his thing to run off on mysterious unsigned notes; but he was on holiday and also a bit bored.

The ride was only two hours, and he contemplated his plan. Never unprepared, almost, he brought his pistol along with him. He was to show up at Road Dahl Plass at 2 in the afternoon right next to the water tower. Simple enough. He'd keep one hand on his pistol at all times; if anyone tried to surprise him they'd have a fight on their hands.

The two hour train ride passed normally and he jumped in cab. "Uh, Roald Dahl Plass… Please."

"Whose plan was this idea?" The cabby asked. "Seems like everyone's been going to there recently. You hear stories, you know, about that place; people turning up missing, even a monster or two. You want to know what idea my theory is? Either the Cardiff tourism board has been busy or the stories are real."

"Well, uh, that is interesting." John was debating on asking some follow up questions; could these stories and his mysterious invitation be a coincidence? Unfortunately, he didn't have time to ask more questions if he wanted to. He was at his destination. "10 quid, no change."

He slammed the door and stretched, squinting against the sunlight. There were definitely a lot of people around; if anyone were to try anything, they would be stupid to do it here and now.

Making his way towards the water tower, he was bumped into by a man in braces running towards the street. "Sorry, mate!" the guy yelled. His accent was clearly American.

"Right." John had an urge to follow him, but his previous engagement didn't allow for that. He arrived twenty-two minutes early hoping that it would give him the upper hand. Of course, it didn't. He stood there for 21 minutes and no one suspicious came or went. All he saw where lazy tourists that seemed to mill around at a speed that seemed inhumanly slow.

He sighed, about to sit on the step that gave the water tower a few inches height above the ground.

Just at the moment a hand appeared seemingly from nowhere covering his mouth. John was off balance from the effort of trying to sit, thus making his abductors job much easier. He was on his ass on the step and could feel another person kneeling behind him. Then he felt like he was falling. He couldn't help but give a yell against the hand.

"Buck up man!" Said his captor as he removed his hand from John's mouth.

"Where am I?" John asked slowly. He looked around him, one hand on his pistol, one hand pointing accusingly at the man before him. He recognized him as the man in braces.

"The Torchwood Institute," he replied proudly.

John looked around him again. He seemed to be in some sort of underground facility. There were many lab stations and bizarre looking guns and… a hand in a jar. He felt a pang in his heart as he realized this hand in a jar only alarmed him a little. It made him think of Sherlock.

"What the hell is Torchwood? Who the hell are you?" He pulled out his gun now. He had no desire to be a part of Frankenstein's creature.

"Ever see in Men in Black?" The doctor nodded. "It's kind of like that. We work with government to try to help protect the United Kingdom from Alien threats. I am Captain Jack Harkness."

"Doctor John Watson," he replied lowering his gun from Jack's chest.

"I know who you are," he replied Jack with a brilliant smile.

"So you're the one who sent me that invitation then?"

"Ah, no."

John waited for him to elaborate. Realizing he wasn't going to get an answer just yet her moved on. "So when you say Alien you mean terrorist attacks…"

"Yes and no. Yes they are terrorists, no they aren't Al Qaeda. They're from space." He folded his arms over his chest. The first reactions were always the most entertaining.

"Right. Soo… you fight literal aliens." He raised an eyebrow. "Pardon me if I don't fully believe you."

"Think about it Doctor Watson. How else did you get down here?" John didn't say a word. "Once who have ruled at the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be true.

He paled. "We're done here. Let me out or I'll force my way out." John wasn't in the mood to play games and he suddenly felt like he was going to be sick.

"Shoot first, ask questions later. This is a side of you I've never seen before, John. I think I like it." John could hear the grin in her voice.

He spun around to see the last woman he'd thought he'd see at that moment. The Woman. "Irene Adler." His voice was breathy. The moment of sick was over and now it was just shock. "Mycroft said you were dead. Mycroft said that they were thorough. Mycroft said that the only way you could have survived was if…" He shook his head as he met the eyes of Irene. They shared a smile, his sadder than hers. "Of course. Good old Sherlock. Fell harder for you that day than I saw anyone fall."

"Poor choice of words, don't you think old friend?" John spun around slowly, not daring to believe what he had wanted to believe for so long.

Standing in a doorway in all his glory, the light from the room he had just left illuminating him rather dramatically, was Sherlock Holmes. A rare smile graced his lips.

The emotion John felt at that moment was too much to handle. His chest felt like it just might explode and he wondered in the back of his mind of this is what a heart attack felt like. He took two staggering steps toward his best friend before falling to his knees. The last thing he saw before going unconscious was a concerned Sherlock bounding towards him.


End file.
